Something Worth Living For
by igobumpinthedark
Summary: Severus Snape has unwillingly been forced to take on Hermione Granger as a teaching assistant. Will they learn to work together without murdering one another? More importantly, will they find something worth living for?
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape groaned uncharacteristically as he reread the parchment held in his fingers. Setting the offending manuscript down, he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran through a mental rolodex of contacts that may be able to get him out of this mess. Coming up empty handed, he reclined slightly in his chair and took a deep breath. There was no alternative; Hermione Granger was to be his teaching assistant in a fortnight's time. He cursed.

The morning Hermione was to depart for Hogwarts dawned warm and bright. She rolled over to face the sleeping form next to her and groaned inwardly. She had had far too much wine at her farewell party last night, and the man laying beside her was proof of that. Disentangling herself from him, she gently tugged the sheet away and wrapped it around her nude body. She tiptoed into her adjoined bath, turning the shower on full force as she passed, and splashed cool water on her face. She showered and brushed her teeth quickly, wrapping a magically warmed towel around herself before returning to her bedroom. Her bed was set on the ground in an Asian style and she used her foot to tap the sleeping male form. He emitted a grunt and rolled over to look groggily up at her.

She smiled. "You've got to get up, Harry."

Harry groped across the floor and finding his glasses, he shoved them down onto his face. "What time is it?"

"Seven," answered Hermione absently as she dug through her drawers for clothing.

Harry yawned loudly and stretched before dragging himself to his feet. "I should get home,"

Hermione nodded as she dropped her towel and pulled knickers on, followed by a tank top. She leaned over to give him a fleeting kiss followed by a warm smile. "Alright, safe trip, yeah?" she muttered as she bounced up and down tugging her cords on.

Harry regarded her for a moment as he buttoned his jeans. "I'll, a, call you then,"

Again, Hermione smiled at him as she buttoned her top. "Harry," she said coming to him and taking his hands. "we don't have to do this,"

Harry looked at her curiously. "Do what?"

"All this awkward morning after stuff," she laughed. "We're best mates who occasionally shag. I'm alright with it."

Harry snorted. "Alright, that's good. I was never good at the emotional strings of a good shag."

Hermione barked a laugh. "No strings attached, mate. Have a good trip home and I'll see you at the Halloween Ball."

Harry picked up his wand and stuffed it into his pocket. "I still can't believe you'll be working under Snape." he muttered, shaking his head.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe he's changed." Harry gave her an incredulous glance and she giggled. "Or not. Either way, he's the best. And I didn't spend four years studying potions to apprentice under anyone except the best. You know me."

Harry shook his head. "You are a brave woman, Hermione."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked up at him from where she knelt beside her trunk. "I know." she laughed with a wink.

Hermione left her trunk in the coach and stepped down, shaking out her mane of curls. The ride to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade had been rather bumpy and she was feeling slightly queasy. Pushing the nausea aside, she surveyed her surroundings attempting to gauge her first return to the grounds since the final battle where she had lost so many. The castle looked as it always had; grand and welcoming, surrounded by ancient trees just beginning to show the tell-tale reds and yellows of the approaching fall. Her eyes swung immediately to the lake where Dumbledore's white tomb stood in contrast to the dark waters at it's edge. She felt a painful tug at her heart and she shook her head to clear it of such unwelcome thoughts. With a deep breath, she made her way up the front stairs and through the main doors, pausing to glance toward the great hall. She wasn't ready to enter there just yet, she decided and turned back toward the main staircase. Minerva McGonagall stood at the head, and hurried down to greet Hermione. The older woman wrapped her arms around Hermione warmly and peered through the spectacles perched on her bony nose up at her.

"How lovely to see you, my dear. It's been far too long." Minerva bubbled, linking her arm with Hermione's, and beginning to lead her toward the great hall. Hermione hesitated briefly and Minerva picked up on it immediately. She disengaged herself and moved to meet Hermione's fearful brown eyes head on. "Hermione, it is time to let go of your fears. You will find the hall almost just as you left it at the end of your third year. There are no bodies inside."

Hermione forced herself to smile. "I know that, Minerva. It's just the memories,"

"Child," she laughed gently. "we all have them. The only difference lies in those who let them take over and those who don't." she paused to regard Hermione. "Don't."

Hermione smiled sadly but allowed Minerva to lead her by the arm into the hall.

Her entrance was a bit of an anticlimax. She had expected to confront the four walls and see nothing but the bodies, of friends so close they were family, piled in the center. But she didn't. The hall did look nearly the same except that the four house tables were gone. They had been replaced by a monstrous circular table that could easily fit the entire student population around it's edges. The center was hollowed and a massive statue of bronze stood in the middle, depicting the four founders. They stood, forever smiling, their arms flung warmly about each other in a show of equality and brotherhood. The four house banners had also been replaced, Hermione noticed. They were no longer separate, but instead the four crests decorated the four edges of a massive shield, and hung brightly on banners around the room. She smiled. _This _is what they had been fighting for.

Her train of thought was interrupted presently by a loud and raucous bellow of her name. She looked up, put off by the volume, then smiled as Hagrid bounded toward her. He caught her soundly in his arms and swung her around once before setting her back down.

"How 're yer?" he boomed nearly shaking with happiness.

"I'm wonderful, Hagrid, how are you?" she said warmly patting his large hand.

"Good, good, I can't complain. Olymp and I built just 'er lovely house at the edge o' the Forbidden Forest an we got a littl' one on the way."

Hermione grinned widely. "Oh! A baby! How wonderful, Hagrid. Congratulations!"

He blushed lightly and nodded enthusiastically. "Thank ya!"

Minerva smiled up at Hagrid. "I've got to get Hermione settled, they're be plenty of time for merry making later." she explained kindly.

"Oh, o' 'course, Minerva. I'll catch up with yeh later, 'Mione."

Hermione nodded and squeezed his large hand once more before allowing Minerva to lead her forward.

"Now," Minerva went on as if there'd been no interruption. "let's get you to Severus' chambers and get you situated."

Hermione felt her stomach do a tumble. "Am I to be staying in the dungeons with him?" she asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh," Minerva laughed. "While the Potion Labs remain in the dungeons, Severus' rooms and offices have moved up." Hermione nodded mutely as Minerva led her through a door at the back of the head table in the hall and up a winding staircase that Hermione did not remember ever existing. Her confusion must have shown on her face because Minerva chuckled and offered an explanation. "We made a few upgrades during reconstruction. The number of incoming students went through the roof, and we just didn't have enough room to accommodate them all. The house dormitories have been nearly tripled in size, the classrooms doubled, the greenhouses vastly enlarged, and the potion labs span the entire dungeon now. Severus had no choice but to move up."

Hermione smiled, it was good to see Hogwarts flourishing in the aftermath of such tragedy. They had reached the head of the stairs where there was a small landing that was home to two doors, each facing the other. Minerva opened the door to the left and motioned Hermione in first.

Hermione did a quick double take. The rooms before her were an exact duplicate of her flat in London, right down to the cherry blossom tree she had painted on the wall. She shook her head slowly and turned her confused gaze back on Minerva.

"Hmmm," the older witch mused, wandering into the flat. "I had wondered what it would look like. You have impeccable taste, Hermione." Again, Hermione shook her head with an amused smile. "It's a homing charm. It recreates the owners home when he or she enters for the first time." Hermione nodded her understanding absently as she ran her fingertips lightly over the antique table in the entrance way. "It's especially lovely if you want to pop home for a weekend." Minerva went on, inspecting some decorative trinkets on a nearby shelf. "Anything you place inside here will be there when you reach it. And vice versa. You'll never have to pack again."

"Thank you, Minerva. It was a lovely thought. I love it."

"Good, good. Now, I'll see that your trunk is sent up and give you some time to freshen up before dinner tonight. Professor Snape's office and private apartments are just across the hall if you want to pop in and say hello before then." Minerva hugged Hermione warmly again. "I'm absolutely thrilled to have you returned to us, Hermione. I'm very proud of you." she released her and with one last glowing smile took her leave.

Hermione moved toward her bathroom but upon hearing rustling behind her she spun, wand at the ready. Crookshanks came padding in from the kitchen and paused to eye Hermione curiously. Hermione lowered her wand, thoroughly startled, and bent to pat the fat cat's head. She had left the cat at home until she secured permission to bring him and Harry was going to stop by before and after work everyday to take care of him. If the cat was here, would Harry too appear when he came to feed Crookshanks? Making a mental note to run the predicament by Minerva and owl Harry after dinner she left the cat and continued to the bathroom to freshen up. After nearly twenty minutes of stalling Hermione decided it was time to go and see Professor Snape. Heading toward the front door, she stopped, puzzled. There were two front doors, both identical. She took the handle of the one to the right and opened it slowly. She was confronted by the hallway of her old apartment building. Fully understanding the charm's genius she closed and bolted the door, then opened the left and crossed the landing to knock on Snape's door. She stood waiting for a very long moment before she heard a bolt sliding and the door was flung unceremoniously open.

"What?"

Hermione started. "Oh, sorry, I, ah, just wanted to say hello."

Snape's dark eyes raked over her slightly quivering form. "Hello."

"I'll just, ah, go then. I'll see you at dinner," Hermione stammered as she backed away.

"I do not dine with the other teachers before the school year begins; there is too much to prepare for my classes. You might as well come in, Miss Granger, there is business to discuss." He stood to the side, allowing her entrance.

Hermione entered slowly taking in the room around her. It was obviously his professional office, a massive dark wood desk sat centered with two austere wooden chairs facing it and a large upholstered wing back chair behind it. The stone walls were blank, save for a large banner of the original Slytherin emblem on the far right wall and a large oak door on the left. He swept toward his desk, his black robes billowing behind him, and motioned for her to sit in one of the severe wooden chairs as he took the one behind his desk. Hermione moved quickly and perched at the edge, nearly trembling as he laced his fingers under his chin and regarded her stonily.

"Why potions, Miss Granger? Your worst subject during school and you have decided to make it your life's calling?""Divination was my worst." she answered shortly.

"I said subject, Miss Granger, not play time. Keep up." he snapped.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I did exceptionally well in your class, Professor Snape."

"I am not referring to you ability but to your inclination. My class was your least favorite." he waved his hand dismissively when she attempted to deny his allegations. "I care not. Tell me though, Miss Granger, how are your brewing skills?"

"Very good." she answered without hesitation.

"I will accept nothing less than excellent," Snape drawled. "let us hope you will endeavor to continue to improve." Again he continued over her protests. "Now, allow me to explain to you the basic rules you will adhere to under my direction. The student population has increased threefold this year and as a result all the teachers were forced into taking a teaching assistant. Obviously," he added with some venom. "we had no say in who the assistant would be. Your duties will be very straight forward, Miss Granger. You are to assist the students with brewing after I have given the lesson. My class size has jumped from twelve to nearly thirty and I haven't the time nor patience to round the classroom myself. You will hold office hours to help the imbecile's that are lost in the subject, and you will be responsible for brewing a number of mundane potions for St. Mungos each week."

"St. Mungos, sir?" Hermione asked quietly.

Snape sighed deeply. "Yes. The influx of students means that there are more on scholarships and to offset the cost we have secured a contract with St. Mungos to fill their need for basic medicinal potions."

"I see." Hermione said, raising her head high. "Is that all?"

Snape drummed his fingers on the desk. "In addition to a number of other monotonous duties that Minerva will dictate to you over dinner this evening." Hermione nodded. "If you prove yourself an asset you will be given more responsibility with the students and brewing. If not, you are easily replaced. Questions?"

"Where will I hold office hours?" she asked evenly.

"The library or potion labs, I do not care where you hold them as long as you deal with the idiots." Snape said, standing, indicating that their meeting was at an end.

Hermione nodded and stood. "Thank you for the opportunity, Sir."

Snape smirked as he held the door open for her. "It was not my choice to offer it to you."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she heard the lock slide into place behind her. This was going to be a long school year.

Hermione was settled between Minerva and Professor Flitwick at dinner listening to Minerva tick off her regular duties she would be responsible for. Between the hall duty, and Hogsmeade weekends, office hours, brewing, and heading up at least one school club, she wondered if she'd even have time to breathe.

"There have always been students that wanted to start a potions club, but Severus has always refused." Minerva explained with a scowl. "Truth be told he refuses to perform any duty I set for him. The club he refuses based on the brewing he has to do for St. Mungos. Maybe you can start a potion club, dear."

Hermione bit her tongue to keep herself from revealing that Snape had already handed off the brewing duties to her. She simply smiled sweetly and nodded noncommittally. Minerva turned to converse quietly with Angela Johnson on her left. Angela, Hermione had found out, had been Minerva's teaching assistant for two years previously and was teaching the classed regularly. It was whispered that Minerva was considering retiring from teaching to focus on her head mistress duties and that Angela was positioned to take over.

Professor Flitwick turned to her and she found herself lost in a hopelessly boring discussion on the principles of fire charms. The dinner dishes had long since vanished to the kitchens below and Hermione was certain that she would fall asleep at any moment if Flitwick kept up his enthusiastic one sided conversation. Her reprieve, strangely enough, came in the form of Severus Snape. He swept into the great hall and after giving Minerva a stiff nod, directed his stormy gaze upon Hermione.

"Miss Granger," he drawled. "If you would see fit to disengage yourself from the ever-fascinating charms professor, I will require your assistance in the laboratory post haste. I trust you remember the location." With that, he spun and stormed from the room.

Hermione blushed and apologized profusely to Professor Flitwick before rising with as much dignity as she could in a room where all eyes were upon her in stunned silence, and began to make her way from the hall.

"Hermione," Minerva called, half rising.

Hermione paused and looked back over her shoulder.

"Severus is a difficult man, of that I have great understanding. However, do not allow him to bully you or demean you in any way. Any such actions I will expect to be reported to me immediately."

Hermione nodded and flashed her a brief smile before exiting the hall.

Her heart raced as she descended into the dungeons wondering why he was still so cruel to her even after what had happened during the final battle. Pushing her worries aside and straightening her spine proudly, she entered the dungeon where Severus was pulling potion ingredients from a shelf.

"Miss Granger, please fetch a solid gold cauldron from the store room." he instructed without looking her way.

"Professor," Hermione began softly. "I do not appreciate being spo,"

"Gold. Cauldron. Now." he snapped, turning his annoyed gaze toward her.

With an exasperated sigh, she turned went into the store room. She emerged a moment later dragging a large golden cauldron.

This time, Snape let out a dramatic sigh, pointed his wand, and levitated the cauldron from her hands to the bench in front of him. "You are a witch, yes?" he snapped.

Hermione slapped her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"Defiance so early Miss Granger?" he mocked as he began to add ingredients to the cauldron."Why do you hate me so, Professor?" she asked, dropping her arms and coming forward slowly.

"I do not believe hate is the correct word for what I feel towards you." he said absently as he glanced over the recipe on the bench.

"What is then?" she pushed.

Snape looked up, annoyance clearly displayed over his features. "Irritation, aggravation, exasperation, frustration, shall I continue?" he spat.

Hermione's first instinct was to shrink back, but she fought it and returned his insults. "And you think that I do not feel the same of you?"

Snape did not show any sign of caring what she thought of him, but regarded her for a long moment before speaking again. "I believed, Miss Granger, that I was assisting you out of a terribly mind numbing experience upstairs. However, if you would prefer to listen to Flitwick drone on about fire charms and their various applications, by all means - return. If you would instead like to use that brain inside your head please fetch yourself another cauldron and begin brewing a double batch of Pepper Up potion."

Hermione paused. "You were doing something nice for me?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Pepper Up potion or leave, Miss Granger. Your incessant prattling is giving me a head ache."

Smiling gently, Hermione returned to the store room and levitated out a simple copper cauldron. She settled it onto a table opposite Snape then went to the shelves to fetch her ingredients.

Such a simple potion, she knew it by heart, and was back at her table and beginning to brew momentarily. She bent over her cauldron attentively, chewing on her lower lip as she measured out and added ingredients.

Snape chanced a glance her way and watched her for a moment through the veil of his long hair. She had certainly grown from the last time he had seen her.

Her figure had matured accordingly, and her uncontrollable mop of curls lengthened. She may have even gained a few inches, he thought. However, it was not the new curves or mess of curls that interested Severus. She seemed, he mused, to be carrying herself with a grace of a woman instead of the insecurity of a child. Four years ago she would have _never_ dared show any sign of insubordination toward him openly. She would have never demanded any answer from him, nor returned his frosty glares with equal ice. Yes, he could still make her nervous, but she was holding her own.

He'd noticed that now she stood taller, her head held high, her jaw pronounced and set with determination. She no longer glued her eyes to the floor when he spoke to her, but met him as an equal match. This he found, surprisingly, pleased him.

He hastily returned his eyes to his work when she turned to glance at him. He refused to raise his eyes and acknowledge that he'd been watching her. Eventually the feeling of her eyes left him and he flicked his eyes up briefly to see that she had returned to her work. They continued to work silently into the night.

Hermione finished her batch of Pepper Up potion and summoned vials from the store room to begin bottling it. As she ladled it into each glass phial she would occasionally glance up at Snape as he worked on what seemed to be a rather complicated potion.

His black hair was much longer, brushing his shoulder blades, and bound into a neat ponytail. It was, she noticed, clean and healthy looking. She also noted that while he was still exceptionally pale, the sickly sallow tinge was gone and he even an almost healthy blush to his face. He had put on weight, not unbecomingly, and his frame was more full. Now that he was not under the constant pressure of living a double life, Hermione reasoned, he must be taking better care of himself. He still had that damnable beaked nose though, Hermione thought smugly.

Finished with her task, she lined the bottles neatly across her table and approached Severus' bench slowly.

"I've finished, Sir. Is there anything else you require?" she asked.

Snape glanced at her table full of phials. "You're certain you measured the correct dose into each container?"

"Of course," she answered haughtily.

Snape smirked at her boldness. "Box them and floo them to St. Mungos. Then you may go."

Hermione did as she was instructed, and picking up her sweater from a nearby table as she went, addressed Snape once more. "What are you brewing, Professor?"

Snape glanced up. "A potion of my own devising. Goodnight, Miss Granger."

Hermione forced herself to smile warmly at him. "Goodnight, Professor."

Snape watched her stride from the lab and smirked while shaking his head.

The week before the students returned passed in a surreal blur for Hermione. Neville had returned to assist Professor Sprout and Hermione was thrilled for the company. They spent all of their free time together strolling the gardens, visiting Hagrid, and catching up on the last four years. Never once did they touch on the topic of the final battle; the wounds still too fresh for either of them.

As it happened, Harry did show up once in her apartment and had descended into the great hall in a state of confusion. Minerva convinced him to stay for dinner and afterwards Hagrid had dragged him down to his new, and consequently, massive home he shared with Olympia. After promising Minerva and Hagrid repeatedly to return, possibly as a guest speaker in Defense class, Hermione had led him back up the winding stone stairs to her apartment. As they reached the landing, Harry caught her in his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. She returned his kisses eagerly then pulled away gently, allowing him to keeps his arms around her.

"What was that for?" she giggled.

"I miss you, 'Mione." he replied huskily.

"I miss you too, Harry. But we've talked about this; it would just be too strange to be together."

"I know," he agreed and kissed the tip of her nose. "but it doesn't mean I can't miss you."

Hermione smiled and kissed his lips softly, but pulled away almost violently as Snape rounded the curve of the stairs. He stopped dead-in-his-tracks, and Harry dropped his arms from around Hermione and scowled at his former professor.

"Potter," Snape hissed.

"Snape," was Harry's snotty reply.

"Miss Granger," Snape spat, turning his attention toward her. "I understand that there are not students in the castle at present, however in three days time there will be, and you would do well to keep your bedroom escapades" he snarled, raking his eyes over Harry. "_in your bedroom._"

Hermione colored instantly and glared icily at Snape. "And you, _Professor, _would do well not to sneak around the castle nor speak to me in such a demeaning manner."

With that she grabbed Harry's hand and marched into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Snape was left dumbfounded on the stairs.

Hermione managed to successfully avoid Snape until the night before the students were to arrive. She would have happily continued to avoid him until the first day of classes if he hadn't cornered her on their landing as she was leaving to take a walk around the lake with Neville. She cursed under her breath and followed him into his office as he requested. She settled herself on the rough wooden chair, crossing her legs, and tugging at the short flowered skirt she was wearing. Snape watched with hidden amusement as she fidgeted with her short skirt, feigning a modesty that he had, no doubt, scared into her when he'd caught he with Potter.

"Miss Granger," he began as he slid a piece or parchment toward her. "here is the schedule of potions classes for the year. You will, of course, be present at every class. You may pencil in your other duties as you see fit. I suggest leaving Tuesday and Thursday evenings open, as that is when I brew for St. Mungos and will expect you to join me."

Hermione took the parchment, gave it the briefest of glances, then flicked her gaze back to Snape. "Is that all?"

He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers beneath his chin. "You've no questions, no comments, nothing to prattle on about?" he asked bemusedly.

Hermione stood. "I'm not a child, Professor." she said coolly. "I can read a simple schedule, and any questions I have will be general and directed to someone whom has the ability to answer then without demeaning me. Now, is that all, Professor?"

Snape gazed up at her quietly, then gave her a slight nod of his head to dismiss her. She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her.

The evening the students arrived it rained torrentially; thunder and lightening were scorching the sky. The first years arrived in the entrance hall with Hagrid, sopping wet and shivering. Hermione and Neville joined Minerva casting drying and warming spells one after the other until all the children were comfortable, and equally in awe of the magic they had witnessed.

Hermione sat beside Neville at the smaller table beside the teacher's head table and watched the sorting ceremony attentively. As it turned out, students were still sorted into houses based on their personal characteristics. The round table and new crests simply served to teach everyone that they were equals.

Hermione would find out soon enough, that the houses still feuded.

Once everyone had settled themselves around the massive table, in house groups Hermione noted, Minerva gave the customary welcoming speech. She ran through Filtch's rules, including the long list of the Weasley joke paraphernalia that was banned, then introduced the teachers, and finally the teaching assistants. When Hermione's name was called and she stood, she was shocked to receive a thunderous standing ovation. And more so, when she saw Snape applauding along. He gave a slight tilt of his head and she nodded in return. Hermione blushed and Neville grinned up at her as all of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and most of Slytherin stomped, clapped, cheered, and whistled.

She knew that she'd gained a good amount of fame as part of 'The Golden Trio' as the Daily Prophet had called Harry, her, and Ron. She also knew she had received a great amount of credit for the fall of Voldemort. But the display she was receiving she had never seen, let alone expected, before. Blushing furiously she sank back into her seat and tugged at Neville's arm to get him to stop applauding.

She ate her dinner with her eyes glued to the floor from sheer embarrassment and for the fact that if she looked up she usually received a whistle or cheer of some form.

By ten 'o' clock the hall had emptied and she bid Neville goodnight before ascending the stairs at the rear of the hall toward her apartment. She met Snape halfway as he descended to check in on the Slytherin house. He simply nodded as he continued past her without so much as a word. Frustrated, Hermione entered her apartment, went straight to bed, and slept fitfully through to morning.

Her first class with Snape was a disaster. It was a double potions with first years Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Snape was in a right foul mood and he had no problem taking it out on the first years who sat huddled behind their desks in fear. Two had burst into tears and run from the room when Snape had ridiculed their potions. It was all Hermione could do to follow in his wake and offer the trembling students a smile or a few soft words of encouragement.

She thanked Merlin when the bell rang and the students were dismissed, who all ran out as if their lives depended on it. As soon as they were alone in the ten minutes before the next class was to arrive, Hermione turned to address him.

"What's wrong with you?" she snapped. "How dare you do that to those poor children. You're positively a monster!"

Snape flicked his gaze up at her from his desk. "Your insubordination irritates me, Miss Granger."

"I don't care!" Hermione went on bravely. "The way you treated those children was reprehensible."

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples. "If you do not care for the way I run things here, Miss Granger, perhaps you should put in for a transfer. I hear that Nichols in the Himalayas is a particularly good school."

"I'm not putting in for a transfer after I fought tooth and nail to work under you," Hermione began then stopped short when Snape's head snapped up.

"You did what?" he asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head and looked away, frustrated beyond belief.

Just then, a few of the second years were approaching the door for their class. Snape flicked his wand, slamming and locking the door in their faces.

"Professor!" Hermione snapped.

He ignored her protest, rose, and came towards her. "You did what?" he repeated.

"What are you talking about?" she moaned, irritation written across her face.

"Did I hear you correctly, Miss Granger, that you requested to be placed with me?" he demanded as he came closer.

"What? Yes, of course. Why?" she asked in confusion.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"What do you mean, Professor?" Hermione asked, all too aware of his dangerously close proximity.

Snape grabbed her upper arms forcefully and shook her roughly. "Why, girl, why? Why did you ask for me? After everything that happened, why couldn't you just let me alone?"

Hermione shook her head in confusion, panic rising in her chest and squirming against his vice-like grip. "You're hurting me," she whispered.

Snape stopped and immediately dropped her as if she'd burned him. She scrambled backwards rubbing her arms protectively.

"Go," he commanded, turning away from her.

"Professor," Hermione began shakily.

"I SAID GO!" he bellowed, pointing his wand at the door and flinging it open with a deafening bang. The students in the hall screamed. "GO!" he yelled again.

Hermione turned slowly toward the students in the hall. "Class is cancelled," she said evenly. "there has been an emergency of a personal nature that requires Professor Snape's presence elsewhere. We'll make up for it during your double potions tomorrow." she explained as she herded the kids away from the classroom and towards the stairs. "Return to your dormitories for the remainder of the period." she instructed with a forced smile as she ascended with them.

Once she saw them off, Hermione turned on her heel and rushed toward Minerva's office. Halfway there, she reconsidered, turned again, and made her way toward the dungeons. This was obviously a personal matter with him and she resolved to handle it herself. Hermione's heartbeat quickened with every step into the cool damp of the dungeons but she forced herself to continue down.

She found him settled at his desk, hunched over with his head in his hands. Cautiously she moved into the room and waited.

"Sit," he said tonelessly without looking up. He waved his hand toward the door and it closed quietly.

Hermione moved slowly forward and settled herself on the top of the closest table to his desk.

"I apologize, Miss Granger. It is absolutely unacceptable for me to ever put my hands on you." He began, glancing up at her and continuing to rub his temples.

"Yes," Hermione concurred. "it is. However, before I accept your apology Professor, I will require an explanation for your actions."

Snape sat back and regarded the witch before him mutely for a very long time. As the minutes ticked by he could tell she was becoming more and more nervous by the way she began to fidget.

"Miss Granger," he said finally. "you should have let me die."

Hermione sat back in shock. "Pardon me?"

"For years I lived a life that I would not wish on my worst enemy, Miss Granger. I had suffered fates and witnessed atrocities that would scar you irrevocably. I had reached the end and I was at peace with that. But then you had to cast that damnable stasis charm and hold me at the precipice until you sent help. For hours, I lay there between life and death wishing that something would happen to push me over to the other side. But then Poppy came and my true hell began. Have you ever worked magical venom from your veins? Have you any idea how incredibly painful it is? How many nights I prayed to every God in every religion that it would be my last? I paid my dues, Miss Granger, I'd made my peace, and you tore that last hope of everlasting peace away. You damned me, Hermione, damned me to live until the day I die."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Unwillingly, tears filled her eyes and she looked away as the first coursed down her cheek.

Snape sighed at the emotional spectacle before him. "You asked for an explanation and you've gotten it. To see you everyday reminds me of the paradise I lost."

Hermione looked at him. "I couldn't let you die," she wept.

"Why? What had I done to deserve to live?" he spat, rising and beginning to pace the width of the room.

Hermione jumped down off the table and came face to face with him. "You are a good man, Professor."

Snape waved his hand impatiently and turned away. "I am a monster."

Again Hermione went to him, this time placing her hand against the alabaster of his cheek. He stiffened but she held resolute. "Severus Snape, you are a good man and you did not deserve to die. You are not a monster, but a hero, a man that without which the war would have been lost long ago."

Snape narrowed his eyes, aware of the warmth of her hand on his cheek. It had been a very long time since he had been touched without the intent of harm. Her face was pink and wet from the tears she was still crying as he stood silently savoring the sensation of her hand on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she whispered. "but I would not change a thing if I could go back. I still would have saved your life because you, above most, deserved to live."

Very gently, Severus took her wrist and removed her hand from his face. "Miss Granger," he began. "I appreciate the nobility of your statements, but on this I will not waver. I've no right nor desire to be here."

Hermione wiped at her face. "Professor, on this we will agree to disagree for the time being."

Snape nodded once then turned away from her and moved toward his desk.

"I'm going to my apartment to wash my face. I will see you after the lunch hour." Hermione said as she moved toward the door. She paused and turned back to him. "Unless, of course, you wish for me to put in for a transfer."

Snape flicked his eyes toward her. "That won't be necessary."

Hermione smiled, nodded, and left the classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Couple of author's notes: First and foremost this chapter is rated MATURE. It is rated that way for a reason, as you shall soon see. The second author's note shall be located at the end of the chapter. It's a spoiler timeline and you can't read it until after the chapter or it will ruin the suprizes, enjoy!**

The next month passed amicably, if distant, between Hermione and Snape. True to her word, Hermione had started a potion's club, called the Potioneers, and her membership with thirty strong and still growing.

She'd fallen into a rhythm in the castle and was growing to love this new life - even the time she spent with Snape. Particularly, she enjoyed Tuesday and Thursday nights which were spent brewing alone with Snape. While they didn't converse easily, when they did talk, their conversations were stimulating and interesting. It was during one such brewing session that the incident between Harry, Snape, and herself was breached.

They had just finished a lively debate on the practicality of the emerging trend of platinum caldrons and had fallen back into amicable silence as they worked.

"Miss Granger," Snape began slowly as he crushed snake fangs in his mortar. "Are you seeing Mr. Potter?"

Hermione paused in her stirring and blushed lightly. "No."

Snape nodded and chose his next words carefully. "I was under the impression that you and the youngest Weasley boy were together as were Potter and the Weasley girl."

Hermione fixed her gaze on her potion as she stirred. "You are correct."

"Far be it from me to judge the moral implications of any course of action, particularly infidelity," Snape murmured as he dumped his ground powder into his caldron.

"No, there was no infidelity, Professor. Ginny and Harry split up the day Ron died." Hermione managed, willing herself not to cry.

Snape looked up startled. "Surely you jest, Miss Granger; I've heard no such news of the boy's death."

Hermione set down her stirring rod and shook her head fiercely, wiping at her eyes. "No, Ron died nearly three years ago."

"Miss Granger," Snape said gently. "I offer my deepest belated condolences."

Hermione nodded and forced herself to give a small smile. "Thank you, Professor."

"Might I inquire as to the circumstances pertaining to," Snape paused to rack his brain for a moment, then remembered she had already mentioned his name. "Ron's death?" he finished.

Hermione gave a great sigh, cast a stasis charm on her potion, and flopped gracelessly into the nearest chair. "Do you remember the rash of muggle suicide bombs that happened just about three years ago?"

Snape nodded, cast a stasis charm on his own potion, and moved to sit before Hermione.

"Well," she went on softly. "Harry and I attended University in Spain while Ron and Ginny went to a public University here in London. They couldn't afford the private university, even though Harry told them he would pay their way - they were just too proud." Hermione began tonelessly, sniffling.

"Harry and I were on the train home for Easter. I don't know why we didn't just apparate." she stifled a sob. "We should have apparated. Ginny and Ron were at King's Cross waiting when the bomb went off from that bloody terrorist group. Our train was late,…we missed it by thirty minutes."

Hermione paused here, taking loud gasping breaths and wiping furiously at her tears. Snape waited quietly, his eyes cast respectfully at the floor, for the witch to compose herself.

"He died instantly." she said suddenly. "He was standing right beside the bomber. Ginny was across the way in the bathroom. They had to, to, to…" she sobbed loudly. "identify him by his dental records."

Snape conjured a box of tissues and handed them to Hermione. He thought about what she had said as she wiped her face and blew her nose. He'd seen countless bodies blown to nothing when he'd worked under the Dark Lord. But never anyone he remotely cared about, let alone love. He couldn't grasp her pain, and he wouldn't do her the dishonor of trying. When her sobs had quieted and her hiccups came fewer and softer, Snape looked up. Her eyes were red rimmed, but dry now and dull.

"It was my fault," she said flatly.

"Miss Granger," Snape began quickly. "there is no possible way you,"

"It is." she cut him off. "Ron had class that day. Ginny was to pick us up and he would meet us later on at home. But I whined and prodded until he finally agreed to skip class so I could run into his arms when I stepped off the train. I was such a child. Such a silly, stupid child."

"Miss Granger," Snape said, his face set determinedly. "there is no way that you could have known. It was not your fault; it could never have been."

Hermione stood up and moved to stand directly before Snape. She slowly reached out and tilted his face up towards her, then moved her hand across his cheek as a lover would caress their love. Snape stiffened noticeably, but held her gaze.

"Professor,…Severus, I understand about your wanting to die. I carry the same feeling with me everyday."

Snape opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him with an almost seductive stroke of her thumb across his lips.

"The difference, Professor," she whispered, bending down so that their noses were almost touching. "is that _I_ am the one who does not deserve to live."She stood up quickly and before Severus could speak, ran from the room. He sat quietly for a very long time, his hand cupped over the place where her hand had rested against his face.

Snape and Hermione existed in a 'don't-ask-don't-tell' limbo for the remainder of October. They went about their duties, separately and together, without ever touching on the subject or happenings of that day in the lab.

Halloween arrived cold and rainy, a testament to the miserable fall weather they'd been having. Classes ended early to give students, and teachers alike, time to prepare for the grand costume ball that evening. After a light lunch, Hermione ran straight up to her apartment, barely nodding at Severus as she hurried past. She found Harry sprawled across her couch lazily, absently stroking Crookshanks. He smiled up at her when she entered but made no move to stand.

"Hey, 'Mione." he yawned.

She beamed a toothy smile at him before swooping low to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Are you excited?"

Harry shrugged with a smile. "I don't really know anyone anymore. I'm more interested than excited."

Hermione ruffled his hair with a laugh. "I've got a surprise."

Harry raised an eyebrow and pushed the cat gently to the floor as he straightened up with a grin. "I like surprises."

"I know you do," Hermione laughed again. "This ball is going to be a sort of reunion. Most of our class is coming."

Harry smiled but it didn't touch his eyes, Hermione noticed. "Will Ginny be there?"

Hermione shifted her weight uncomfortably. "I don't know for sure. She was invited but we didn't receive an answer from her."

Harry nodded and remained silent for a moment, before unfurling all six feet four inches of himself and coming to cup Hermione's face in his hands. He brought his lips hungrily to hers and she kissed him back with equal passion. His kisses soon strayed from her swollen mouth and trickled down lower and lower until, both of them panting, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Lying her out on the bed, he stretched out beside her and let his hand wander freely under her sweater while he licked and nibbled his way around her neck and collarbone. She whispered his name when his fingers undid the buttons to her dress pants, and that of Merlin when he slid his long fingers under the elastic of her knickers.

Harry pushed the clinging fabric of her sweater up, followed by the black lace of her bra, exposing her full breasts to himself.

"Mmm," he murmured, nibbling at the exposed flesh. "you know I love the black lace knickers, did you wear them for me?" he breathed across her flushed skin.

"Yes," she sighed as his fingers worked at her core and his lips worshipped her breasts.

"'Mione," he whispered. "My 'Mione, I need you."

Hermione pushed him back enough to sit and tug off the bunched up fabric at her chest and begin to wiggle out of her jeans. The more she wiggled, the harder Harry rubbed between her thighs, and she only got her knickers to her knees before he thrust a finger inside of her. She moaned loudly, arched her back, and called out his name.

Harry chuckled deeply against her ear, then nipped her lobe. "Do you want me?"

"Yes," Hermione panted. "now. Please."

Again, Harry chuckled. "How bad?" he demanded playfully.

"Bad," she gasped, nearing to point of orgasm. "So fucking bad," she managed as the roaring began in her ears and her body's muscle began to lock.

Suddenly, and without warning, Harry removed his hand and Hermione felt the world-shattering orgasm fall away. She popped her eyes open and was about to complain when she felt Harry's tongue slip in between her legs.

As many times as they had been to bed together in the last year, he had never done this. Hermione, suddenly self conscious, tensed her muscles defensively.

Harry chuckled against her, and the vibration made her shiver. "Relax," he ordered, running the tip of his tongue around her throbbing nub. "I know what I'm doing."

Hermione forced herself to relax, and Harry continued his endeavors. It didn't take long before Hermione was again on the verge of climax, and this time Harry took her over the edge. She came so intensely that she was sure that she was going to break to bed.

And that was saying something - as her bed was on the floor.

Coming back down from the explosion, Hermione was suddenly aware that Harry was inside her, moving quickly. Her body came back and responded immediately, meeting each of his thrusts with her own.

Harry reached his own climax quickly, being so worked up beforehand, and collapsed beside Hermione. She moved to kiss him sweetly, then lay back in the crook of his arm, both of them panting.

"Well," Hermione laughed as she caught her breath. "that was something."

Harry smiled lazily and watched her rise from the bed, enjoying the soft curves of her nude body. "'Mione," he asked quietly.

She turned to look over her shoulder at him.

"If Ginny's there tonight, I want you to stay with me."

"Harry," Hermione sighed as she pulled Harry's too large button-down shirt on and began to fasten it. "you're going to have to speak to her sooner or later."

"Later," he grunted, rising. He padded, nude, across her room and kissed her cheek on his way to the bathroom. "I'm going to jump in the shower."

Hermione started to follow him but stopped when there was a knock at the door. She let out an exasperated sigh, assuming it was Neville who was due to return a book of hers right about now, and hastily did a few more buttons to cover her exposed breasts before flinging the door unceremoniously open.

"Neville," she began in greeting, but was confronted by a slack jawed Snape.

Hermione immediately turned a deep scarlet and fumbled for words while wrapping her arms around herself.

Snape's eyes slid over her, and he didn't attempt to hide it. She stood before him nearly nude, her creamy skin glorious and perfect. Her long toned legs were exposed to mid-thigh and he knew she didn't have a stitch on underneath that large button down shirt. Her arms were crossed against her heaving bosom but they did little to conceal the ample swell behind them. Her long neck snaked up from the shirt's opening and her face was flushed a pleasing pink.

"A," he stammered, finally averting his eyes. "now is a bad time I see. I was just going to pick up the papers you said you had finished grading, but we can exchange them some other time."

Hermione nodded and stumbled backwards a few steps. "Yeah, I'll get them to you, er, I was just, ah, about to get in the shower." she babbled gesturing absently toward the sound of running water in the bathroom.

Snape nodded. "Of course. I'll leave you now."

Neither he nor Hermione moved for a long moment, both staring at the other intently. Hermione felt a familiar tug in her stomach and tried to shake the feeling. This was Snape! Why was her body responding to his hungry…were they hungry?!…eyes like that? Finally after what seemed an eternity, Snape bowed slightly, spun, and entered his apartments abruptly.

Snape leaned against the cool wood of the door and attempted to gather himself for a moment. This was his student, he reasoned, and it was absolutely unacceptable for him to feel any sort of attraction toward her besides that of a colleague or possibly, friend.

He shook his head and moved off toward the door leading to his private chambers. _No_, he thought as he pressed his palm against the door and it swung open in response. _She was a scarcely clothed woman, my body was reacting from a physiological stand point, and nothing more._

He swept quickly through his living quarters and entered his bedroom, glancing at the costume draped across his massive bed, and scowled.

Severus Snape did not wear costumes. But Minerva had begged and pleaded and badgered him until he would have gladly worn a pink tutu if that would have shut the insufferable woman up. He fingered the rich fabrics absently while thinking of ways he could avoid attending the event all together.

Finding no plausible excuse, he begrudgingly resigned himself to becoming King Arthur for the evening.

"You're blushing." Harry noted when he encountered Hermione, her back pressed tightly against the door. He swaggered over towards her, his towel swathed dangerously low around his hips.

"What? No." Hermione laughed nervously.

Harry reached her, tilted her chin up with his long fingers, and kissed her softly. "Go get ready, 'Mione. We're going to be late."

Hermione scampered into the bathroom to shower.

Snape gazed at himself in the mirror and frowned. He considered simply walking outside the gates and apparating away. To anywhere but here.

His stately costume was beautifully crafted, yes, but for anyone except Severus Snape. The crimson velvet fabric was tailored to his body and embellished in golden stitching and inlays, he wore stockings to his knees, a pair of ridiculously pointed shoes, and a golden crown was perched atop his head. He was miserable.

Harry wandered into the bathroom, struggling with the shoulder knot of his toga as Hermione finished winding the golden cord into her pile of curls atop her head. He stopped struggling and gave a loud whistle. Hermione rolled her eyes and adjusted a few tendrils of hair that framed her face as Harry ogled her.

She was dressed as Hera, queen of the Gods, and her toga was white floor length chiffon that fastened around her neck and was edged in gold. A golden bejeweled snake was wound around her upper arm and she had piled her curls high on her head and wound them through with gold twine.

Harry wore a classic white toga complete with a long wig and beard of white, in true Zeus fashion.

"You make a very good Goddess." he teased as he came behind and placed a hand on either shoulder.

"You make a good God." she agreed, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

"We would make a good couple," Harry whispered, leaning to kiss her shoulder softly.

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "we've been over this again and again - it's never going to happen."

Harry grunted against her shoulder and stood. "Why? Why not. Hermione? I love you and I know you love me! How many times do I have to ask you to marry me before you will?"

Hermione closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Harry, not tonight, please? This is my job and I have to get through tonight. We can argue about this all day tomorrow if you want, but not tonight. Please?"

Harry groaned but put his hands up in submission. He knew there was no use in arguing with her now.

Severus had secluded himself at a small table in a dim corner of the room as he sat twirling the amber fluid in his glass. He'd been watching the students dancing across the expanse of floor near the disc jockey and could not figure out why they insisted on wiggling and grinding like harlots. He sighed, took a deep draw from his neat drink, and chuckled to himself. Drinking was strictly forbidden while on duty, but he viewed this as a necessary transgression in order to make it through the night. Severus reached up and removed the gilded crown from the top of his head, tossed it on the table, and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. Maybe he could sneak out, he reasoned. The party was in full swing and surely no one would give a second thought to the absence of a brooding professor. He stood quickly, swinging his gaze toward the door that lead to his sanctuary, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Hermione was leaning down to speak with Luna Lovegood, a stray curl hanging before her eyes as she smiled softly at something the blonde witch said. Severus stared; she was stunning. Now, he was interested in her new curves and long curls piled atop her head. Now, he didn't deny to himself, she was attractive to him. Her flowing white gown danced over her curves and Severus felt himself flush with desire. Just then she glanced over her shoulder and her warm brown eyes locked with his own dark eyes, and she smiled. Severus inclined his head slightly and lifted a corner of his mouth in a smirk.

Hermione turned back to Luna and said something before straightening up and beginning to move toward him. He watched as she floated towards him, her gown flowing around her like a fine mist. Suddenly, Potter materialized and caught her wrist, spinning her into his chest. She laughed and Severus watched with slight repulsion as Harry leaned in to kiss Hermione. Hermione, though, sensing his move, turned her head quickly to the side and Harry's lips met her cheek. She flashed him a hot glare and he released her with a roll of his eyes and disappeared into the crowd again.

Severus watched her take a deep breath, smooth the front of her gown, then turn and continue towards him.

"Hello, Professor." she said upon reaching him.

"Miss Granger," he answered. "you look lovely this evening."

Hermione step back and placed a hand over her heart dramatically. "Did Severus Snape just compliment me?" she laughed.

"Don't push your luck." Severus chuckled.

"Well thank you." Hermione went on. "I like your costume as well, King Arthur."

"That makes one of us." he quipped. "I see Potter is your date for the evening." he added.

Hermione shrugged. "That's what he would like to think. I simply needed a Zeus to my Hera."

Severus nodded and they fell into a slightly awkward silence for a moment. Finally Hermione laughed and pointed to the empty glass on the table.

"Is the evening so unbearable?"

He smirked. "Until the present."

"Two compliments in such a short time frame? Professor, you are truly in rare form."

Severus chuckled. "Keep such blasphemy to yourself, Miss Granger. I've a reputation to upkeep."

The music faded into a keening slow song and Hermione flicked her gaze over toward the dance floor. She noticed Harry weaving his way towards her, and let out a loud sigh of frustration.

"Miss Granger?" Snape prompted.

She glanced at back at him, her eyes desperate. "Dance with me, Professor." she nearly begged.

"What? No, surely you jest," Snape sputtered uneasily.

"Please, professor Snape," Hermione begged him openly. "save me from Harry."

Snape groaned and narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "My one damnable weakness," he muttered, extending his hand toward her. She took it eagerly and he lead her slowly toward the dance floor.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, and watched with undisguised horror as Snape led Hermione past him and out onto the floor.

"Miss Granger," Snape began quietly once they had settled into a rhythm on the dance floor. "if I may be so bold to ask why you are avoiding Mr. Potter with such a vengeance when you two spend so much time behind closed doors?"

Hermione gazed up into her former Professor's dark eyes and sighed. "He's asked me to marry him four times now." she murmured. Snape quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent. "I've told him, Professor, I've warned him that nothing would come of, er, our time behind closed doors." Hermione explained, blushing. "I love Harry, I do, I love him very much but I will never be _in_ love with him."

Snape continued to remain silent for a moment as he swept her across the dance floor. "There is no delicate way to put this, Miss Granger, so allow me to be blunt," he began finally. "it would seem that Mr. Potter is quite in love with you, why continue to hurt him by going to bed with him if you love him so?"

Hermione gave a very sad smile. "After Ron died, it was like Ginny died too. Harry and I were both alone and hurt and very confused," she said carefully. "Misery attracts company, I guess. The first time it happened we both felt so guilty, but there was a little part of me that felt good. Harry too. We clung to that feeling. In the middle of all our grief we found something warm, familiar - comforting. The sex," Hermione paused to glance up at Snape's face, and when he remained impassive she went on. "was like a bandage, I suppose."

Snape gazed down at the young woman in his arms. "Possibly, Miss Granger, it is time to rip the bandage off."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "He still loves Ginny," she confessed. "sometimes he calls out for her in his sleep. I think he's using me to try and replace her. Harry already lost one love how could I ever walk away from him knowing that? Ron is dead; Ginny chose to walk away. That is infinitely more painful. I'm all he has left; Harry got no closure from her."

"Well, Miss Granger," Snape drawled, suddenly releasing her as his eyes went to the main door. "that is about to change, I believe."

Hermione whirled around toward the entrance and clapped her hand over her mouth. Ginny stood clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, in the doorframe, her eyes searching the crowd.

Recovering from her open-mouthed shock, Hermione turned on her heel and rushed into the crowd calling an apology to Snape as she went. Harry and she found each other at the same time and came together, clasping hands, wordlessly. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly and offered him a brave smile. It was only a short moment before Ginny approached them. She stopped and gazed at Harry and Hermione, a passive look on her face, flicked her gaze to their clasped hands, and a brief flicker of hurt flashed across her face.

"Ginny," Hermione broke the silence.

It was no secret what Ginny did to Harry. After the fall of Voldemort Harry was a celebrity of sorts and he was reported regularly on in the Wizarding papers. It was portrayed as a huge scandal after the tragedy at Kings Cross, when Ginny picked up and moved to Romania. Ginny's reputation had been destroyed in the eyes of the wizarding public for leaving their hero. As such, the floor around them had cleared and the party had fallen nearly silent.

Ginny continued to gaze at the couple quietly. Finally, "Hello Harry, Hermione,"

"Perhaps," Snape drawled as he moved into the circle where the trio stood. "you would be so kind as to escort Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter to your rooms, Miss Granger. I'm sure Miss Weasley has had a long journey and would like to freshen up. And I am equally sure that there is much to discuss in private as not to detract from the gayety of the ball."

Hermione flicked her eyes to Snape, relief and gratitude evident. "Of course. This way," she said with forced cheerfulness.

Harry's hand remained twined with her own as she led him across the floor, Ginny in tow. They reached her apartment without exchanging a word and she pointed Ginny to the bathroom while she and Harry rushed into the kitchen to whisper and prepare tea.

Harry was frantic and Hermione had to tell him several times to lower his voice.

"Please, God, Hermione," he nearly wept. "marry me. I love you, make her go away."

"Harry," Hermione whispered compassionately. "she hurt you, I know, but just talk to her."

Harry shook his head violently. "No." he hissed. He fumbled in his robe and yanked out the small velvet box Hermione had returned to him four times previously.

"For Merlin's sake!" she snapped grabbing the box away from him and slamming it down onto the table. "No! Harry, you don't love me! You love the way I make you feel, you love the comfort I provide! You are not in love with me."

Harry looked utterly defeated and Hermione took a deep breath before taking his hands and lowering her tone. "I love you Harry, I really do, but I am not in love with you. And I know you love me but you are not in love with me. We found comfort together in a horrible situation, and that was ok. That is ok. But you are confusing that comfort for love, and that is not ok."

"But," Harry began, releasing her hands to wipe furiously at the tears coursing down his cheeks. "it hurts."

"I know," Hermione cooed, pulling Harry into an embrace. "I know it hurts, but we'll get through it. We always do."

Harry nodded weakly, kissed the top of Hermione's head, then moved to wash his face while Hermione levitated the tea into the sitting room. Ginny was seated on the couch, looking anxious as she chewed on her nails. Hermione sat down opposite her on the loveseat and was joined by Harry shortly after.

"So," Hermione sighed. "how have you been?"

Ginny shrugged briefly, chancing a glance at Harry before returning to her nails.

"How's Charlie?" Hermione tried again.

"Good," Ginny muttered softly.

"Ah, so, Harry's almost done with his Auror training. Just one more year left, and I'm a teaching assistant here, er, obviously," Hermione babbled in an attempt to fill up the gaping silence.

Ginny managed a weak smile. "That's good," she said quietly. "the two of you are doing really well for yourselves. You make a great couple." she finished, her voice cracking slightly at the end.

"Oh," Hermione said. "no. We're not, er, um,…"

"We're not together." Harry said evenly, meeting Ginny's eye. "She won't have me."

Hermione immediately colored and cast her eyes at the floor. "Harry!" she hissed.

"What?" Harry asked, feigning innocence.

Ginny looked around quietly. "This is a nice place."

"Thank you."

"So," Harry cut in. "what have you been doing for three years? Besides avoiding my post, I mean."

"Harry!" Hermione chastised.

"No, it's alright. I deserved that. I finished my last two years of University and now I work at the Romanian Ministry of Magic." Ginny explained, fidgeting on the couch.

"Oh! How interesting! What do you do there?" Hermione asked, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

"I'm the assistant to the Ambassador to Russia."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking slightly more interested. "That's got to be fascinating. Do you travel a lot?"

Ginny nodded stiffly. "Yeah, we split our time between Romania and Russia."

"Ginny," Harry said suddenly. "why are you here?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably and hung her head. She stayed that way for a moment and Hermione took a good look at the redhead on her couch. The years, it seemed, had not treated her well. She lost weight off her already slender frame and couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds at this point. Her long waves of fiery red tendrils had been sheared to her shoulders and hung limp and dull. The hazel eyes that once sparkled with happiness were dulled into a muddy brownish green and her skin had become so pale that the delicate blue of her veins was clearly visible. Harry must have been studying her too, because when he spoke again his tone was softer.

"Do you need something? Money? Help?" he asked gently.

Ginny shook her head quickly and peered at Harry with tear filled eyes.

"What, Gin, what is it?" he asked, now obviously concerned.

"When, er, after I left, I, ah, found out that," she stumbled over her words, sobbing.

Hermione steeled herself, she knew what was coming.

"I found out that I was pregnant." Ginny finished weakly, hung her head, and really sobbed.

Hermione let out a tiny sigh and Harry sat back, slack jawed. Ginny returned her eyes to the floor and sobbed louder.

"Was it mine?" Harry asked tightly after some time.

"Of course. I haven't slept with another soul besides you." Ginny said fairly nastily, directing her last statement toward Hermione. Hermione scooped up her mug and took a noisy slurp, pretending not to notice Ginny's unspoken accusation.

"Don't change the subject," Harry said softly. "what happened to the baby?"

Hermione held her breath.

"Babies," Ginny corrected. "twins." She paused, meeting Harry's eyes, then went on. "They're both fine. James Red and Lily Alba. They turned two, two weeks ago."

Harry sat back hard against the loveseat, unable to speak. Hermione wiped a tear away and sat forward. "Do you have pictures?" she choked out.

Ginny nodded and dug in her pocket, producing a picture of the two beautiful toddlers. They stood outside, hugging each other, and flashing toothy grins at the camera. James looked identical to some of the baby pictures Hermione had seen of Harry - a mop of unruly dark hair and those breathtaking green eyes. Lily had inherited her mothers glorious long, deep red hair and her father's stunning eyes. There was no doubt these children were the product of the Harry and Ginny. Hermione nudged Harry gently and placed the picture into his upturned palm. He gazed down at it with glassy eyes.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Hermione breathed. "Why didn't you tell him he was going to be a father? You robbed him of two years! Two of the most important years of his life!" Hermione yelled, suddenly furious. "What's wrong with you? I get the whole drama queen disappearing act - if I were I weaker person I'd have done it too - but to hide something like this!" she raged on, gesturing at the photo in Harry's limp hand. "You selfish, self centered, self serving, bitch!"

"Do you think it was easy for me?" Ginny snapped.

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione screamed, rising. "Easy for you? You weren't the only one who lost someone that day!"

"He was my brother," Ginny cried.

"He was the love of my life, and Harry's closest friend. All Harry had left was you. And you walked out and took his children with you." Hermione spat, looking down at Ginny's tiny form.

"He obviously had you," Ginny said, an edge rising in her voice. "He always had you! It was always Hermione this, Hermione that. From both him and Ron."

"Oh shut up," Hermione snarled. "I can't help your jealous insecurities."

Ginny jumped up, a flicker of her old fighting self flashed through her eyes.

"Enough," Harry said quietly, closing his fingers around the picture in his hand. "Why did you come back now, Ginny, after all this time?"

Hermione huffed and flopped back down beside Harry, deliberately sitting closer than she normally would have and enjoying the flash of hurt across Ginny's face.

"You deserved to know," Ginny said lamely.

"I deserved to know two years ago, so again, why now?"

Ginny sighed. "I wasn't ready two years ago. I'm not strong like you two," she paused when Hermione snorted. "I can't absorb losses like that and keep going. I was down for the count. Every time I looked at you Harry, I saw all the tragedies - not our love. It wasn't your fault - either of your faults - I know that. But at the time I couldn't separate it. I'm learning how to now."

"And the babies," Hermione demanded. "not even a letter?"

Ginny shook her head and sat back down slowly. "When I found out, I was devastated. I didn't want kids, especially your kids,"

Harry shifted uncomfortably and Ginny flashed him a look of apology before continuing.

"I was terrified that the same thing that happened between you and I would happen with James and Lily. And in the beginning it did. I couldn't look at them without crying. I couldn't hold them, or cuddle them, or feed them, of give them baths," she stopped then and broke down for a few seconds, weeping quietly, before raising her head and going on.

"Charlie took such good care of them and he never even complained. Little by little I came around. I started severing the connection between the twins and my past and eventually I grew to love and need them more than I ever thought possible. I thought, well, I thought maybe I could come back and try to repair some of the other bridges I burned. I just didn't think that you two would be, er…" she let the last though trail off into silence.

Harry stared at Ginny, anger clearly written across his face. "Where are my children now?" he said slowly.

"With Mum,"

Harry nodded and rose quickly, striding toward the fireplace at the far side of the room. "You'll never keep my children from me again," he snarled before flooing to the Burrow.

**Second author's note: A timeline, shall we to clear this up a bit? OK! The fall of Voldy occurs in what would be their 7th year, or 2006 in this story. Freshman year of college for Hemione, Harry, and Ron commences in the fall of 2006 through the spring of 2007. Sophmore year 2007-2008 (Ginny's freshman year) Junior year 2008-2009. Ron dies just before Easter in junior year, putting his death in April 2009. Ginny leaves mere days later, she is unknowlying around 2 months pregnant. Harry and Hermione return to University for their final year 2009-2010. Ginny and Harry's twins are born October 16th 2009. Hermione completes an accelerated Master's program in the academic year 2010-2011 while Harry completes his first year of Auor training. It is now Halloween night 2011, Hermione is two months into her teaching assistant term and Harry is in his second, and final, year of training. The twins have just turned 2.**

**WHEW.....questions?**


	3. Chapter 3

Molly Weasley looked old; that was the first thing Harry thought as he stumbled out of the grate in the Burrow's kitchen. She was thin, exceptionally so, compared to her past robust self. Her red curls were edging toward gray and her eyes that had once been so full of love were now claimed by sadness. Considering that the day Ron had died she'd effectively lost Ginny too, Harry didn't blame her. Of her seven children two were dead, two lived across the world, one was lost in his own world of grief, one was off and married on his own, and one worked such long hours he might as well not be there at all.  
"Harry?" she whispered, clearly shocked by his arrival.  
"Molly," he said awkwardly, glancing around the once familiar room.  
"She's told you then?" she said sadly, rising slowly from the bench she'd been settled at sipping tea. "You know, I didn't even know she'd had children. She forced Charlie to make an unbreakable vow to never reveal the truth. I'm just as shocked as you are. Come in, sit down, let me make you some tea."  
Harry lowered himself onto the worn bench and smiled at Molly as she set a steaming mug before him. He took a sip and regarded Molly for a moment before speaking. "You look good,"  
Molly snorted and waved off his compliment. "No, I look old. Thin, yes, but old. Grief is a wonderful diet."  
A sad smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips. "It would seem so, Ginny couldn't weigh more than a child of ten,"  
Molly nodded. "She's not doing well. But then neither is George. I guess us Weasley's don't weather storms very well."  
"How's Arthur?" Harry asked, taking a drink of his tea.  
Molly shrugged. "Old. Tired. Thin. Sad."  
Harry looked down at his mug.  
"Tell me about you though, Harry, and Hermione," Molly asked, forcing some old cheerfulness back into her voice.  
Harry shrugged. "We're alright. Hermione's a teaching assistant to Snape at Hogwarts and I'm in my last year of Auror training." he paused. "We're doing ok."  
"Good," Molly said warmly. "I'm glad to hear it."  
They sat quietly for a while, sipping their tea, before Arthur padded into the kitchen wearing a housecoat and slippers. He looked well beyond his years, with a full head of gray hair, and a weariness etched into his face, and a body that was dangerously thin.  
"Harry, my boy," he boomed, a genuine smile on his face.  
Harry stood and shook his hand warmly while Arthur looked him over. "You look well, very well indeed. I take it you've spoken with our Ginny?" When Harry nodded he continued. "Awful thing she did, keeping those babies from you. But no time to mourn the past. You've got yourself a wonderful set of kids, you have. Rambunctious, but wonderful. They're upstairs sleeping, they've had a long day of traveling, won't do you any good to go barging up there now and introduce yourself as Daddy. Best to leave that for the morning, it is."  
Harry nodded absently.  
"It's good to see you though, Harry, it's been quite some time. Since Ron's funeral I think." Arthur went on after receiving a nod from Harry. "You should come around more often, my boy, you're as good as a son. I bet George could do with a visit from you, help him something fierce, I think. Bill and Fleur have a baby on the way, did Molly tell you that? They ask about you all the time."  
Harry smiled weakly, guilt gnawing at his insides. "No," he said in almost a whisper. "she didn't tell me that."  
Arthur nodded, beaming a smile at Harry as he wrapped an arm around Molly's shoulder. "We're picking up the pieces finally." he murmured.  
Harry nodded again and cast his eyes to the floor, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He heard Arthur kiss Molly quickly then leave. When he gathered the courage to look back up, Molly was smiling softly at him.  
"You don't have to feel guilty, Harry. We all have our own ways of dealing with our grief. Some of us are just naturally better at it than others. You've had more than your fair share, yourself. And Ron would want you and Hermione to be happy." she assured him.  
Harry ducked his head, avoiding Molly's gaze and wondering if she knew about his relationship with Hermione. Molly surprised by reaching out and putting her hand over his.  
"Harry," she said softly. "It's alright."  
Harry raised his eyes, meeting her gaze, and nodded very slowly.  
Molly grinned and raised her voice an octave. "Right then, come over first thing in the morning for breakfast. And you make sure you bring Hermione! I haven't seen the dear in ages. And I'll see if I can't drag Bill and George over for a bit. Oh!" she cried, clapping her hands. "It'll be a wonderful reunion!"  
Harry swallowed sharply and nodded, forcing a wide smile. "Alright, yeah, we'll be here."  
"I know you will, dear." Molly said, rising and walking Harry back to the fireplace. "Let's aim for nine then, hmm?" Molly hugged Harry to herself and kissed his cheek before sending him on his way.

Hermione tugged self-consciously at the hem of her fitted pink t-shirt. She was absolutely terrified of going to the Burrow. She hadn't seen hide nor red hair of a Weasley since Ron's funeral until Ginny's surprise appearance last night, and frankly, she was ashamed of herself. She and Harry had been practically adopted by the Weasley's during their time at school and they had deserted the family in the time of their greatest need.

She could hear Harry fumbling around in the other room, getting dressed. She had, against her better judgment, allowed Harry to spend the night, and they had ended up in bed together. As they always did.

Last night had cut Harry deeply and he was seeking solace and Hermione could never deny him that.

Harry entered the living room and kissed her fleetingly on his way past into the kitchen as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It would be easy, she thought, to marry Harry. It would be comfortable and soothing, familiar yet passionate. They were best friends with a sexual chemistry to boot. Isn't that what marriage was all about?

She had absolutely no trouble imagining their life together. Simple, easy, honest, loving. A small house in the country with her teaching and him working as an Auror. Maybe a couple of kids running underfoot. It would all be so easy.

Except that she still loved Ron. And Harry still loved Ginny. As much as neither of them wanted to admit it.

And now, Harry already had children. Ginny was back. He had a ready-made family to be inserted into that country house; into that dream. Hermione sighed and rose from the couch to amble after Harry.

She leaned against the doorframe and watched as he sipped at his coffee, staring pensively out the kitchen window that now overlooked the Forbidden Forest.

"A sickle for your thoughts?" she offered quietly.

Harry chuckled and set his mug into the sink then turned and leaned his hip against the counter. He smiled at her gently. "I was just thinking how easy it all could have been." He murmured, extending his arms toward her.

With a sad smile of her own and a small sigh, she went to him and he enveloped her into his embrace.

"I would have worn you down eventually, 'Mione." He breathed into her hair as he nestled his face against the top of her head. She giggled into his chest. "You would have married me." He went on, sure of himself. "Just as surely as you breathe. You would have eventually come home to me."

"I know," she murmured against his heart.

"And it would have been good." He continued, pressing his lips to the crown of her head sweetly.

"Yes," she agreed. "It would have."

Silence fell softly between them as they both envisioned what could have been. Harry stroked her back in small circles while she clung tightly around his waist. Harry broke the silence.

"Now what?" he asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

Hermione pulled back slightly and glanced over his shoulder at the clock ticking away at the wall. "Now," she sighed, releasing Harry completely. "We go to the Burrow and try to collect the pieces of our lives."

Harry smirked ruefully and ran a hand through his unruly hair, then grinned. "Have another quick go before we leave?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "You're such a boy!" she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Harry lunged and caught her about the waist as she laughed, spun her around, and kissed her soundly on the lips several times between their laughter.

"'Mione," he whispered, suddenly very somber.

She stopped laughing immediately and met his intense gaze questioningly.

"No matter what happens now, with my," he paused, scrunching up his face. "with my children, or with Ginny, know that you will always be in my heart. No matter what road you and I end up on, I will always love you. I will love you more than you will ever know."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed, reaching up to brush his cheek softly. "You talk like one of us is dying. We'll always have each other, it's just going to shift into another capacity."

Harry winced. "Will you love me, Hermione? Always?"

Hermione gave him a befuddled smile. "Of course, Harry, you know that."

"Always, no matter what?" he persisted. "Say the words; I need to hear them."

"I'll love you always, Harry Potter, no matter what." She vowed.

He let out a sigh that Hermione would have sworn was the sound of something in his chest breaking. His attitude frightened her and she forced herself to smile brightly up at him, lacing her hand with his.

"Let's go, we're going to be late," she sang out in a voice much braver than she felt.

When the green flames stopped roaring in her face, Hermione's discombobulated mind registered a crushing sensation in her right hand. She winced and glanced down at Harry's hand, wrapped painfully tight around her own. She was about to protest when her mind registered the sight before her. Two beautiful toddlers stood frozen staring at Harry and herself in the fire grate.

"Oh," she breathed.

Lily tilted her head to the side, her red hair splaying like molten lava as she regarded the new comers. She studied Harry for a long time before glancing at her brother, James, whom held her hand tightly.

No one moved.

"Dada," Lily said evenly.

Harry's hand tightened further around Hermione's. She winced.

James looked at his sister in confusion and Lily smiled. She pointed at Harry with her free hand.

"Dada." She said again, matter-of-factly.

James scrunched his face up, glanced quickly over at Ginny who was stock still, then back at Harry. "Dada?" he said slowly.

"Dada." Lily reassured him, releasing his hand and tottering toward Harry. She stopped at his feet, met his green gaze evenly, and raised her arms. "Dada, up." She demanded.

It took him a second, but Harry released Hermione and bent to lift Lily into his arms shakily. He settled her onto his hip and smiled.

"Hi Lily." He breathed.

"Hi Dada." She sang out, patting his face gently.

"Dada." James said quietly, testing the word. He looked at Harry and wobbled forward quickly. "Dada!" he squealed with delirious abandon. "DADA, DADA, DADA!"

Harry dropped to his knees and pulled James against him with his free arm. "Oh," he breathed, tears fogging up his glasses. "Oh, James, Lily, oh I love you. I'm so sorry." He murmured haltingly, pressing urgent kisses to his children's heads and faces. "Daddy's sorry,"

Hermione pressed her hand to her throat and took in a shaky breath, glancing over at Ginny's whose tears were dripping from her chin.

"Mama!" James screamed joyously. "Mama it's Dada!"

Ginny smiled through her tears at her son. "I know sweetheart."

"Dada!" Lily laughed, clapping. "Dada home."

"Yes, Dada's home." Harry agreed thickly, clinging to his children.

Lily squirmed off his knee, took his finger into her tiny hand and pointed at Molly happily. "Nana." She explained. "Papa." She said pointing at Arthur. "Unca Worge." She continued, her chubby finger pointing at George. "Unca Bill." She recited at Bill. "Mama." She went on, pointing toward Ginny. "Flower." She said proudly, pointing at a very pregnant Fleur. She pointed at Harry. "Dada." She turned toward Hermione. "Who?"

"Aunt Hermione." Ginny cut in, taking a small step forward. "That's your Aunt Hermione."

Lily and James gazed at Hermione appraisingly.

"Aunt Her….Aunt Her," Lily attempted to pronounce Hermione's name. She narrowed her eyes in frustration. "Aunt My-knee." She said finally, looking pleased with herself.

"My-knee!" James threw his head back and screamed out, obviously overjoyed with his new family members.

After the breakfast dishes had been cleared, Harry had taken James and Lily outside to play and Ginny had followed soon after. Hermione smiled at the sounds of the toddler's squeals and Harry's smooth laughter drifting in through the windows. She rose and moved toward the back door to watch the children, stopping short when she saw Harry take Ginny into his arms in a soft hug.

"I'm so sorry," she heard Ginny sob against Harry's chest.

"I know," came his strangled reply as he rubbed her back gently, his eyes closed.

"No," Ginny protested into his sweater. "You'll never know how sorry I am." She wept. "I messed everything up. I was so scared."

"Shhhh," Harry soothed. "It's ok now. I'm here, Gin. I'm here now. You're home."

Hermione took a step backward into the kitchen. She'd assumed it wouldn't be pleasant, losing Harry for good, but she hadn't expected it to hurt this bad. There was physical pain searing it's way through her chest. She gave a little gasp and stumbled back a few more steps, pressing her hand to her chest.

"Hermione, dear, what is it?" Molly asked, looking alarmed.

"I," she started, gasping for the wind that seemed to have been knocked out of her. "I have to go." She finally managed, stumbling toward the fireplace.

"Child," Molly said moving toward her quickly and gripping her wrist. "What's the matter?"

"No,…nothing, I just remembered I have something to take care of at the castle." Hermione babbled.

"Hermione!" Molly yelped. "You look like you've seen a ghost, what's the matter,…"

"Molly!" Arthur aid sharply, nodding toward the window where Harry and Ginny's embrace could be seen. "Let her go."

Hermione's wild eyes registered Harry's face lowering toward Ginny's just as Molly sucked in a gasp and released her wrist.

"I'm sorry, my dear, go," Molly whispered, pushing her gently toward the grate. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione spun into the fireplace and disappeared into a welcome rush of green flames.

In her disorientation, Hermione had managed to floo into the potions lab in the damp dungeon. She slowed herself to fall roughly to her knees, sobbing and gasping for air.

"Miss Granger?" came a silken voice. Then more urgently, "Miss Granger!"

Hermione felt herself being pulled to her feet, then swung into a set of strong arms. She barely had time to recognize the worried face of Severus as he hurried out of the dungeons with her before she fainted in his arms.

"Well?" Severus snapped at Poppy who had just left Hermione's bedside.

Poppy put her hands on her hips and glared at Severus. "You need to learn some manners, Professor." She snapped, striding past him.

He sighed loudly. "How is the girl?"

Poppy paused and faced Severus. "Been through quite a mess, the poor thing." She spit out. "She's in shock."

"What happened?" he demanded.

"You can ask her yourself. Tomorrow. She's sleeping now." Poppy said, motioning toward the exit.

"I'll wake her," he countered, ignoring the medi-witch's none too subtle dismissal, and striding toward Hermione's bed.

"You'll do no such thing!" Poppy bit out, hitting the retreating form of the professor with a full body-binding hex.

The professor fell heavily to the floor, a bewildered expression clearly written across his face. With a smug smile, Poppy levitated him right out the door, dropped him in the hallway and warded the door against his reentrance. As soon as the wards were in place, the hex fell away, and Severus scrambled to his feet, a murderous expression plastered across his face. He spent a full twenty minutes attempting to break the wards, peppering his incantations with rather foul language, before the ruckus brought Minerva hurrying briskly down the corridor.

"Severus!" she cried. "What's going on?"

Snape paused to brush a strand of hair from his eyes, straightened his robes, and raised his chin haughtily. "I am attempting to secure entrance to the medical wing through the wards that that insufferable old bat put into place."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Why would Poppy put wards up to keep you out, Severus?"

"A good question, Head Mistress." Severus replied evenly, pointing his wand once more toward the door.

"Are you injured or ill?" Minerva questioned the wizard suspiciously.

"Of course not, I simply wish to check the status of a patient." He snapped, lowering his wand and losing his patience.

Minerva set her jaw against his tone. "And which patient would that be, Severus? Hermione, perhaps?"

Severus glared at her silently.

"Hermione has had a terrible shock, Severus, she needs to rest." Minerva explained, softening her tone.

"So I've been informed," he said irritably.

Minerva stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm – which he regarded with an arched eyebrow. "I know it can be difficult when someone we care about is ill,"

Severus snatched his arm away and regarded the witch for a long moment, a look of disgust etched across his face.

"Someone I care,.." he sputtered indignantly. "I assure you, Head Mistress, that my interest is purely selfish in nature. I have double potions in the morning with a class of fuddering dunder heads, and was counting very much on Miss Granger's assistance."

Minerva sighed loudly, her patience running out. "You'll do without it then, and for as long as she requires to recover. I won't hear another word on it."

Snape scowled, pulled his robes tightly around himself, spun on his heel, and left without a word.

Hermione returned to classes the following morning amid violent protests of Poppy. Hermione had kindly, but firmly, refused to stay any longer in the hospital ward and since she was no longer a student, there was nothing Poppy could do.

She entered the potion labs looking pale and tired and met Snape's curious gaze with a small smile and a wave. Before he could voice his numerous questions, however, the first students arrived and a young first year struck up a conversation with Hermione.

Snape conducted classes as he usually did, with snide remarks, point deductions, and several proclamations of the general uselessness of the class as a whole. Hermione, as usual, followed in his wake to comfort the offended students. It was a system which Snape and Hermione had down to a science.

Both Hermione and Snape worked through the afternoon grading essays from the second year Hufflepuffs. Snape's quill worked furiously amid his snorts of disgust, while Hermione smiled softly and graded on a slightly easier scale. They were only second years after all.

"Miss Granger?" he asked after some time of silence. Hermione raised her tired eyes to his face. "Are you feeling alright? Do you require the afternoon off?"

Hermione knit her brows together and set her quill down. "Did Professor Severus Snape just offer to give me the afternoon off for my own welfare?"

Snape frowned. "If you always treat these small acts of kindness with such flippancy, Miss Granger, I shall be hard pressed to continue with them."

Hermione worked very hard to keep the smile from her face. "What I require, Professor, is a strong drink."

Snape folded his slender fingers beneath his chin and regarded the witch with black eyes. "Do you wish to speak about the incident?"

Hermione sighed and pushed an unruly curl away from her face. "With all due respect, Professor, I don't think you would understand."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do you question my intelligence?"

"No, Sir, it's your experience, or lack thereof, in the matter that concerns me."

"Ah," Snape said, unlacing his fingers and sitting back. "an affair of the heart. Having to do with Potter, perhaps?"

Hermione nodded once then turned her brown eyes toward the floor.

"Gone back to the Weasley girl, I presume?"

Hermione shrugged. "How could he not?"

"He always was a blathering idiot," Snape commented lightly, retrieving his pen and scribbling something across the essay he was grading.

Hermione laughed quietly. "It's only right; his children need him."

Snape set his quill down deliberately, capped his ink well, pushed aside the parchments, and folded his hands in front of himself. "Miss Granger," he began slowly.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just state that Mr. Potter has offspring?"

Hermione looked at Severus and said nothing.

"Well," he prompted.

"You said to correct you if you were wrong; you are entirely right." She managed calmly.

Severus remained silent for a moment. "Children." He repeated. "Plural, as in more than one?"

Hermione nodded. "Twins."

"I understand that I live under the proverbial rock, but how did I miss this? Surely, the Daily Prophet would have reported on this."

"Ginny's been in Romania."

Snape angled his head to the left. "You mean to tell me that Potter has had children that he has had no knowledge of?"

"Exactly." Hermione replied absently as she finalized the grade on the paper she was reading.

"You are in sore need of a drink then." Snape said, rising. "And I dare say, I could use one myself."

Hermione looked up and smiled in confusion as Snape came around his desk, his black robes billowing.

"Miss Granger," he said motioning to the exit. "Accompany me to the Three Broomsticks?"

"But," she sputtered, taken aback. "It's nearly suppertime in the Great Hall, surely we'll be missed!"

"Easily remedied." He purred, flicking his wand and sending his Patronus galloping in search of Minerva.

Hermione knit her brows. "Are you sure this is acceptable?"

Snape paused. "Are you referring to a foray to a tavern or the company with which you'll be attending said tavern with?"

"The former rather than the latter – I don't really have any concerns with being seen with you, Professor." Hermione laughed.

Snape smirked. "You are the recipient of an undeniable leniency when it comes to Minerva and I've sent her a message concerning your circumstances. Myself," he went on silkily. "Well, frankly I don't give a damn."


	4. Chapter 4

The liquor was coursing hotly through her veins, numbing the pain inside substantially. Hermione worked to keep her face straight and her speech clear as she discussed the Potioneer club she was running.

Snape lounged against his chair; the perfect picture of nonchalant elegance as he listened politely, twirling the amber fluid in his glass.

"I do not doubt the potential of such a club, Miss Granger," Snape purred. "I simply doubt the idiots that claim themselves members."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You are capable of doing great things," he went on, ignoring the scowl Hermione was directing at him. "but to reach greatness, one must have adequate assistance."

"My members are fine." She snapped. "They're young, intelligent, and eager."

Snape shrugged and took a deep drawn from the whiskey in his hand. "I'll give you two of the three: young and eager."

"They are intelligent!" Hermione insisted, sitting forward too fast and causing the room to tilt. She closed her eyes and took a breath.

"Intelligent?" Snape repeated. "You honestly find Dillius Fletcher intelligent?"

Hermione recalled the fumbling, nervous boy who was always dropping things and smiled. "He has potential." She said slowly.

"Potential to become an even bigger idiot." Snape corrected.

Hermione cracked a small smile; Dillius really wasn't promising in the slightest. "Fine," she allowed. "But there are still good students in my club. And those that are not so promising will benefit from the extra attention."

"Perhaps." Snape murmured.

Hermione let out a sigh and sat back, touching her fingers to her temples. "You are a very frustrating man." She chuckled with a smile.

"So I've been told." Snape allowed. "Have you been successfully distracted from your problems at hand?"

"I'm quite drunk, so yes, I suppose I have been, thank you."

Snape smirked. "Would you like to return to the castle, then?"

Hermione rolled her neck slowly and felt the room tilt and slide around her. She closed her eyes and pressed against her temples. "I'm horribly intoxicated, Professor. I'd be mortified to be spotted in such a state by anyone."

Snape stood and offered his arm. "I'll ensure your safe and stealthy return to your rooms."

With a deep breath to quell the alcohol-induced queasiness, Hermione took his arm and stood on unsure legs. She stumbled a few steps and Snape chuckled.

Hermione huffed. "How can you not be drunk, Professor? You matched me drink for drink and then some."

"Some of us," he began as he led Hermione gingerly through the exit and out into the bitterly cold street. "Hold our liquor better than others."

"Hold or hide?" Hermione asked as she stumbled a few steps.

Snape chuckled darkly. "Both."

True to his word Snape helped Hermione reach the landing between their doors without being detected, though it came close when they'd almost run into Minerva in the Great Hall. Snape disillusioned them both and they'd snuck quietly past the head mistress, with Snape's hand clamped tightly over Hermione's giggling mouth. Reaching the landing, Snape released her and removed the cloaking spell with a smirk.

"You would make a terrible spy," he purred.

Hermione shrugged with a lopsided grin, then her face turned into a mask of horror when she heard footsteps on the staircase and her name being called by Minerva.

Snape rolled his eyes, reached behind Hermione and wrenched the door open to his chambers. He flicked his wand at the door against the far wall and it flung open. He shoved Hermione gently toward the opening.

"Go," he hissed under his breath and Hermione stumbled gratefully into the darkness beyond the doorway.

The door clicked shut behind her and she was engulfed in total darkness. Taking a moment to get her bearings, she waited until her bleary eyes adjusted to the darkness. She fumbled for her wand, found it, and lit the tip.

She was at the bottom of a steep staircase. Very carefully, she began to climb. The darkness became diffused with more light with every step. Finally the staircase opened into a cavernous room lit by two ornately carved fireplaces on either end of the massive space. Hermione gaped at the vaulted cathedral ceilings; gothic inspired arches reaching towards the heavens.

Toward the left, gathered around the farthest fireplace, was a sitting area adorned with rich looking antique couches, chairs, and tables. Directly across from her was a small kitchen, complete with modern conveniences, separated from the rest of the space by a long island of cherry wood and granite tops. On either side of the kitchen a door was set into the richly painted walls. To her right, beside the other fireplace, a long, dark table stood sentinel with richly upholstered chairs.

Hermione took a few uneven steps into the space and found that the right side continued around a corner past the dining area and she was met with the most awe inspiring sight yet.

Shelves upon shelves of books lined this smaller alcove. They reached nearly as high as the arches. Settled commandingly among the books was a large, austere dark wood desk, scattered with several open books and sheets of parchments.

Afraid to touch anything, she simply stood stock still, looking dumbly at the collection of books hungrily.

"Impressed?" a silky voice purred from behind her.

She whirled around too quickly and fell unceremoniously onto her bottom. She gazed up at Snape, a deep scarlet painting her cheeks.

Snape chuckled, but said nothing as he reached down to help her to her feet. He led her slowly away from the books and toward the sitting area when he settled her into the corner of a couch, then took the chair opposite of her. He conjured a glass of water and handed it to her; she drank from it gratefully.

"I informed Minerva that you'd gone to talk to Potter. Being the insufferable busy body that she is, she is waiting for your return. In your flat, of course."

Hermione moaned and flopped back against the couch.

Snape shrugged. "I informed her that you may be quite some time; she took no heed. You are, of course, welcome to sober yourself here for the time being."

Hermione grinned. "I won't touch a single thing." She hiccupped loudly at the end then giggled.

Snape sighed and shook his head. "I shall hold you to that. Tea?"

"Please," Hermione managed, working very hard to control her facial expressions.

He rose and moved toward the kitchen area. Hermione could hear his quiet ministrations.

"A lesser man would have had enough and kicked me out by now." She called, glancing over her shoulder. He smirked but remained silent.

"Or tried to take advantage of the drunk girl in his home." She added as an afterthought.

Snape's slender fingers paused momentarily in his preparations and his dark eyes flicked up to meet hers.

"I should hope that you do not think so lowly of me,"

"No, of course not. That's why I said _a lesser man_." Hermione amended.

He nodded curtly, picked up two mugs and brought one over to her.

"Professor," she asked after taking a gulp of tea and burning her mouth; earning a snicker from Snape. "A few months ago, you couldn't stand to be in the same room with me. Now, you seem to enjoy my company,"

"Yes. And?" he prompted, taking a small sip from his steaming mug.

"Well, I was just wondering why, I suppose. I was under the impression that you hated me. Or did at one time"

"Hate is a strong word," he began, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. "One I reserve for a select few people."

"Like Harry," she laughed lightly.

"No," Snape said slowly. "I don't _hate_ Potter. Dislike strongly? Yes. Find infuriatingly irritating? Absolutely. But hate? Not currently." Snape smirked.

"Voldemort?" Hermione whispered.

Snape thought a moment. "No," he responded finally. "Not even him."

Hermione knit her brows together. "Who, then, professor?"

Snape's eyes seemed to focus somewhere beyond Hermione. "Dumbledore, for one,"

Hermione's jaw dropped with an audible pop and Snape smirked.

"Didn't see that one coming, hmm?"

Hermione shook her head, waiting for him to continue.

"When I joined the Dark Lord's ranks," Snape began slowly, his eyes once again focusing far way. "I knew what I was doing. I was making a conscious decision. _My_ decision. I understood what was going to happen to me. But," he paused before continuing with an edge to his voice. "When I took Albus' life – that was not my choice. Albus, the bumbling idiot, happened to be one of the only other wizards in the world I considered a friend. He placed me into a position that was unbearably painful. I'll never forgive him for that. I'll always _hate_ him for that."

Hermione remained silent, his words acting like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head – instantly sobering her.

"And myself, I suppose," he went on, taking no notice of Hermione's unnatural stillness. "after all the lives I've taken, all the horrible things I've done – it wouldn't be fair not to hate myself."

"I don't hate you," Hermione said quietly. "And I would consider you my friend."

Snape raised an eyebrow and gazed at the young witch before him.

She smiled. "I know you think I'm touting drunken nonsense, but I'm more or less sober at this point, Professor. Besides," she went on, drawing her knees up to her chin and leveling her gaze at Snape earnestly. "Despite your absolute atrocious reputation, you have been nothing but kind and considerate toward me. That is something I look for in a friend."

Snape looked away briefly before looking back at her balled up form and snorting. "Friends, hmm?"

Hermione nodded slowly.

"There won't be any blathering gossip sessions or bloody tea parties," he warned.

Hermione eyed the steaming mug in his fingers pointedly and smiled. "Of course not,"

Snape scowled and set the mug aside hurriedly. "I'm a very private and moody person. I prefer staying in and reading to going out on the town," he cautioned testily.

Hermione smiled wider. "A man after my own heart."

Snape narrowed his eyes dramatically and Hermione laughed.

"I don't do hugs," he snapped. "I don't share feelings, and I won't coddle you – not personally nor professionally." He muttered.

"Understood." Hermione said seriously. "I don't expect special treatment inside or outside the classroom. I may, however," she went on with a smile. "Expect drunken forays to a tavern every now and again."

Snape met her playful gaze and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "I can handle drunken forays," he allowed.

"Fine." Hermione said very seriously, sticking her hand out. "Friends?"

Snape hesitated briefly, before taking her hand and shaking it firmly, once. "Friends," he growled.

The winter seemed harsher that year to Hermione, whether it was the loss of Harry or the actual weather – she didn't know. But the cold seemed to creep into the marrow of her bones and settle there. She was extremely thankful that her flat was so high in the castle since the heat rose, and even more thankful for the crackling fires that the castle's house elves kept roaring for her.

It was an exceptionally blustery Friday evening and Hermione was tugging on a heavy sweater to keep the chill from her skin. She had a huge mound of third and fourth year quizzes waiting for her on her desk that was not looking forward to in the least.

Resigned, she settled at her desk with a hot cup of tea. It was only moments before her mind began drifting away.

She missed Harry fiercely. Even though it had been only three weeks since she'd last seen him that day at the Burrow, Hermione was longing for him with such a profound need it was painful. She missed the way he laughed and the smell of his cologne. Her arms ached to encircle his waist and she wanted so badly to feel the whisper of his lips in her hair.

Harry always had a way of making her feel needed and loved. And now, she sat alone – the biting wind screaming viciously outside to match the keening of her own heart.

Tomorrow was February 14th – Valentine's Day. Harry had always – always - gotten Hermione roses for Valentine's day, but she had a feeling that there would be no flowers this year.

Hermione was shocked to discover that she was crying, her fat teardrops splashing against the parchment before her. Groaning, she used her wand to clean up the smeared ink and pushed away from the desk – disgusted with herself.

She spent the rest of the evening trying to find something to distract herself and finally gave up in frustration, pulling out a bottle of red wine. She curled herself tightly onto her couch and successfully drank her pain away.

"'Mione?"

Hermione jumped at her name, dropping the wine glass from her hand where it shattered on the floor.

"Damnit!" she hissed, squinting the early morning sunlight and flicking her eyes up to see Harry standing there with a bouquet of multi colored roses and a bewildered expression on his face.

"Oh," she whispered. "Sorry."

"It's ok," he said quietly, lifting the empty bottle on wine and gazing at it thoughtfully. "Are you alright, Hermione?"

"Um, yeah, fine," she muttered as she vanished the glass shards. "Why?"

"You don't drink,"

"I do now. What's up, Harry?" she asked, feigning nonchalance.

Harry set the bottle down carefully and smiled, offering the wildly colorful bouquet to Hermione. She took it with a smile and buried her nose into it. "You remembered," she breathed.

"Of course," he laughed. "I'd never forget."

"It's a rainbow," she commented gazing at the multitude of different colored roses.

Harry nodded and produced a small card from his pocket. "I did my homework this year," he laughed. "I found out what the colors of roses mean and picked accordingly."

"Oh?" Hermione glanced at his face in interest. "Enlighten me," she teased, sinking back to the couch.

"Ok." Harry said with pride and clearing his throat. "So, red means passion and love, obviously. There are two of those in there. Um, the two yellow ones are for our friendship and the familiar love we share. Then the two orange stand for pride and amazement. You know, because I'm proud of you and in awe of you," he flashed Hermione a grin before continuing. "The pink one is for the sweet thoughts I have about you. The peachy one is for how much I appreciate you. The two purple ones are majesty and eternal love."

Hermione smiled softly.

"And," Harry went on. "The two white one signify unity, sincerity, loyalty, and a love that is stronger than death."

Hermione's eyes glassed over with tears as Harry stuffed the card back into his pocket and grinned at her.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, wiping away her tears and allowing him to wrap his long arms around her.

She stood for a long time, savoring the feeling of his arms around her and his lips in her hair before the sobs came. Her body began to quake against his and he held her tighter against himself.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered into her curls.

"I know," she whimpered. "I am too."

When her sobs quieted and she was able to regain some of her composure, Harry loosened his grip and pulled away slightly to look down into her face. She stared up at him, hating the pain she saw in his eyes. She hid nothing though – letting all her anger and sadness and betrayal show on her face, damning him. Damning him for the years he spent making her love him and for the mere hours in which he ripped it away.

"Hermione," he choked out. "I'm sorry, I am so sorry. But if it were the other,"

"I know," she cut him off with a sad smile. "If it were the other way around and it were Ron, I'd have walked away from you. I know, Harry. It's just hard."

"If I could make it any easier," Harry sighed deeply.

Hermione rubbed her forehead and stepped away from him. "It'll get easier for me with time." She promised, moving toward the kitchen in search of a vase.

Harry followed her and stood in the doorway. "I loved you, Hermione. Honest."

"I know you did Harry," Hermione murmured, filling a vase with tap water.

"I still do, of course," he said quietly.

"I know you do Harry, it's just a different kind of love."

"No," he said slowly. "I'm still in love with you. I still want forever."

Hermione turned to face him and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "What about Ginny?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure,"

"You can't have it both ways, Harry." Hermione said gently. Harry scrubbed his face and remained silent.

"I promised you that I would always love you, and I will. But I can't be both, Harry. I can't be your best friend and your girlfriend when it's convenient for you. I can't be a second choice. I can't wait around on the back burner until you figure out whether or not it's going to work with Ginny. I can be your best friend or I can be your girlfriend, Harry, I'm not strong enough to be both anymore."

Harry's face looked like he was in agony. "'Mione," he moaned.

"It's ok, Harry." Hermione whispered, forcing herself to smile softly. "You have a family that needs you,"

"It's not, I mean, I can't, er…,I don't know if," he babbled, his eyes darting around the room madly.

"I'm not angry." She whispered, coming towards him and gathering his hands into hers. "I understand, honestly, I do. I'll just need a little bit of time and a little bit of space to sort it all out and I'll be as good as new."

Harry looked at her as if were burning alive. She squeezed his hands gently.

"Go home Harry," she whispered.

Her heart nearly broke, when he stumbled into her grate and instead of calling out his address, he gave that of The Burrow.


End file.
